"Now, gentlemen," continued Dawkins, "I happen to be a bit of a mathematician; and hearing the conversation, I saw at once that for a spot to be exactly two, three, and four furlongs from successive corners of a square, the square must be of a particular area. You can't get such measurements to meet at one point in any square you choose. They can only happen in a field of one size, and that is just what these men never suspected. I will leave you the puzzle of working out just what that area is. "Well, when I found the size of the field, I was not long in discovering the field itself, for the man had let out the district in the conversation. And I did not need to make the eight digs, for, as luck would have it, the third spot I tried was the right one. The treasure was a substantial sum, for it has brought me home and enabled me to start in a business that already shows signs of being a particularly lucrative one. I often smile when I think of that poor fellow going about for the rest of his life saying: 'If only I knew the size of the field!' while he has placed the treasure safe in my own possession. I tried to find the man, to make him some compensation anonymously, but without success. Perhaps he stood in little need of the money, while it has saved me from ruin." Could the reader have discovered the required area of the field from those details overheard in the wineshop? It is an elegant little puzzle, and furnishes another example of the practical utility, on unexpected occasions, of a knowledge of the art of problem-solving. THE PROFESSOR'S PUZZLES "Why, here is the Professor!" exclaimed Grigsby. "We'll make him show us some new puzzles." It was Christmas Eve, and the club was nearly deserted. Only Grigsby, Hawkhurst, and myself, of all the members, seemed to be detained in town over the season of mirth and mince-pies. The man, however, who had just entered was a welcome addition to our number. "The Professor of Puzzles," as we had nicknamed him, was very popular at the club, and when, as on the present occasion, things got a little slow, his arrival was a positive blessing. He was a man of middle age, cheery and kind-hearted, but inclined to be cynical. He had all his life dabbled in puzzles, problems, and enigmas of every kind, and what the Professor didn't know about these matters was admittedly not worth knowing. His puzzles always had a charm of their own, and this was mainly because he was so happy in dishing them up in palatable form. "You are the man of all others that we were hoping would drop in," said Hawkhurst. "Have you got anything new?" "I have always something new," was the reply, uttered with feigned conceit--for the Professor was really a modest man--"I'm simply glutted with ideas." "Where do you get all your notions?" I asked. "Everywhere, anywhere, during all my waking moments. Indeed, two or three of my best puzzles have come to me in my dreams." "Then all the good ideas are not used up?"